


In Her Mother's House

by bboiseux



Series: CR2 Short Stuff [6]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Brothels, C2E006, Dick Jokes, Dwendalian Empire, Gen, Kid!Jester, LLF Comment Project, Nicodranas, Pastry Tensions, Sex Work, Violence against women, Will Jester get her hot buns fresh from the oven?, some extreme language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:06:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: Growing up in a brothel didn't leave Jester with many illusions about much of anything.  But some lessons take longer than others.The one where Jester's mother runs a brothel and Jester is learning both how to draw and that people can be bastards.  Pastries may or may not be consumed.[For Episode 6!]





	In Her Mother's House

**Author's Note:**

> Although every detail here is certainly wrong, I am strongly convinced that Jester's mother runs a high class brothel in Nicodranas. I also think that Jester's outlook is not simply a matter of nature, but of a choice. Here, I wanted to think about how that outlook might have started forming.

The harpsichord started up again and Rose launched into the triumphant tones of “The Star of Rexxentrum,” her voice rising up as she described the might of the great ship, holding back the enemies of the Dwendolian Empire.  Jester knew what that meant: if she didn’t get her hot buns soon, then she wasn’t getting any at all.

She let the door to the Parlor slip shut and scampered across the kitchen towards the large iron oven that took up the whole back wall, almost knocking a tray of cocktails out of Greta’s hands and getting a sharp curse in return.  “Sorry, Greta!  I have to check on the buns!”  Greta gave a dismissive sniff after Jester and pushed out to the parlor with the tray balanced on one hand.

The oven was warm and comforting.   Jester crouched down, her pink gingham dress dusting the floor, and peered between the thick grill of the oven.  She could almost make out the golden, flaky crust.  And the smell—rich and thick and sugary—Jester breathed in and let the aroma dance in her nose, exciting memories of pastries she had eaten before.  It was nothing short of delightful.  Pastries were, perhaps, the best thing in the world.

But she wasn’t going to get them if they didn’t come out now!

“Frieda,” Jester said, looking up at an older plump woman in a rough dress and apron, streams of gray hair tied up loosely in a knot, “When will the buns be ready?”

Frieda, churning something in a mixing bowl, didn’t look up, but said, “They’ll be ready when they’re ready, little one.”

From the floor, Jester gave Frieda a scornful look and then turned that look back to the closed oven door that separated her from the hot buns.  Maybe if she just opened the door and grabbed one now it would be okay.   Maybe—

A wooden spoon rapped her outstretched hand.  “It don’t matter what you look like, Jester, you’ll burn like anyone.  Let them be.”  Frieda went back to stirring the bowl, leaving a weird thick meat paste sticking to Jester’s hand.  She licked it off and wrinkled up her nose before turning and running back to the door.  She listened at the crack.

Rose was still singing, but her voice was trilling higher and higher, the strings of the harpsichord beating with intense urgency.

Jester stamped her foot and her eyes watered up a bit with tears.  She sniffed.  “The Star is about to sink and that means that it’s almost the last verse and then Rose is going to go upstairs and Mama says I should be practicing my drawing.”

“Well, then I guess you’ll have to have these buns later, when they’ve cooled off a bit.”  Here Frieda finally looked up from her work, “Like they’re supposed to be eaten.”

Jester stamped her foot again, “But they’re best when they’re really hot and make your tongue tickle.”

“That’s what most of us call burning, child.” Frieda just shook her head and turned back to the counter, picking up a knife and starting to cut. “Anyway, they’re not ready, so you either have to ignore your mama or wait.”

Jester sighed, looking longingly at the oven.  Then she grabbed a well-worn book from the floor and ran headlong into the Parlor.

They called it the Parlor with a capital “P.”  The air was filled with the sound of music—Rose’s voice and Darunia’s deft fingers on the harpsichord—and the luxurious scents of perfumes and the finest tobacco.  The deep mahogany walls were covered in paintings and tapestries and the floors were covered in thick carpets of vibrant colors and intricate designs, breaking the room up into small sitting areas with clusters of chaise lounges and deep chairs made for two.  A staircase arched along one wall.  A massive chandelier hung from the high scarlet ceiling.

All around the room, people were draped—draped across furniture, draped across other people, draped across architecture that seemed to exist only for people to drape on.  The room was made for lounging.  At one end of the room, a woman in an incredibly expensive looking emerald gown lay back as a shirtless man fed her grapes.  Her hand rested on his thigh.  Over there, a woman stood painting, dressed in a sheer gown that didn’t hide a single detail of her body.  A man sat nearby, drink in hand, watching as she skillfully composed a still life.  Rose posed by the harpsichord in a lush dress of crushed red velvet, her hand outstretched, her mouth open and trembling the final lines of “The Star of Rexxentrum” (where the crew sacrificed their lives to protect the King and all of the Empire).  A large, balding man watched her intently from a chair nearby.  Jester thought he looked like he might cry.  A handkerchief was already gripped in one hand.

Jester technically was supposed to take the back way and not go through the Parlor.  Technically.  But it was quicker this way, so Jester didn’t really see the point.

Book under one arm, a small leather pouch hanging at her side, little pink ribbons around each of her blue horns, Jester ran for the stairs.

“Hi, Sebar!” she yelled at the man holding the grapes.  “Hi, Glyn!”  she shouted at the woman painting.  Hi, Rose!  Hi, Darunia!”  Jester waved wildly.

The woman on the couch jerked up and went wide in the eyes, but Jester thought she saw Sebar smile a little as she ran by.  He leaned down and whispered something in the woman’s ear and she squeezed his butt.  Jester had learned that people hated being surprised, but that they usually were happy to go right back to being distracted.

She was still too little to technically take the stairs two at a time.  Technically.  But she had found that if she ran fast enough, she could just about do it.  So she did it.  She only stumbled once.  And Rose was still holding the last note of the song.

Jester ran down a long, broad hallway, just as extravagantly appointed as the Parlor.  She dodged to one side as two men started to come out of a room—one man straightening the tie on the other and kissing him softly.

“Hi, Nik!” Jester shouted over her shoulder.  She was running for the very end of the hallway, which she reached with a rough thud and a bounce off a tapestry covered wall.  She brushed herself off and, feeling under the tapestry, found the hidden handle and pulled the door open, sliding inside.

The first thing she saw was a tree trunk of a leg.

“What are you doing here, my little fiend?”  It was a husky voice, scratchy from some damage in the past that she wouldn’t talk about.  The thick scar on her throat spoke volumes enough.

“Mama, says you’re not supposed to call me that.”  Jester said, but she was grinning, leaning her head back to look at the towering figure of Nari.

Nari was muscular and thick and she wore her blonde hair back in a long pony tail.  Some of the girls and boys in the house said she was a half-orc and that it was just a freak that her skin was white instead of green.  Nari didn’t care enough to say anything.

Jester scrambled up a tall stool that had been set up in the small space between walls and looked out through a veiled hole in the wall.  It showed a bedroom, specifically framing a four-poster bed with red curtains.  Over the hole was the faint image of a sailing ship—the painting through which the spyhole looked out.

“Ah, that explains the stool,” said Nari, “I suppose your mother sent you for a lesson?”

Jester sat cross-legged, the book open and perched precariously on her legs.  On the pages were sketches of nude figures—some standing, some laying, some in various forms of copulation with one another.  Jester was especially proud of one sketch that showed Nik going down on an older man (a respected member of the Crown’s Guard, Jester remembered).  Mama had said it was an excellent example of anatomy and perspective—very accurate and true to life.

As she rummaged through her pouch to pull out a good piece of charcoal, Jester nodded.  “Mama says this will be good practice of,” she paused, trying to remember the exact words, “realistic masculine anatomy.”

Jester didn’t see the sideways glance that Nari gave her.  “I hope that’s all your mother intends.”  She clenched and unclenched her fists, her eyes focused ahead into the room.

Jester vibrated in her seat.  “When do you think they will get here?”

“Soon.  And, Jester, your mother may have had these spyholes enchanted to silence sound from this side, but please do not shout.  I do not want to test it.”

“Okay.”  She looked expectantly out through the whole, charcoal poised over the page.

Soon there was the sound of girlish laughter from outside the room and the door pushed open, revealing Rose and her client.  Rose wrapped her arms around his neck as he closed the door behind them and she brought him into a light kiss.

He broke away.  “Beautiful work, my lovely.  I have never heard a better ode to the power of the Empire and our noble king.”  He dabbed at his eyes.

“Fucking patriot,” muttered Navi behind the screen.  She made a motion like she was going to spit, but then thought better of it.

Jester was fixated ahead, watching Rose and the man.

“It never fails to grab my heart,” said Rose, “those men giving their lives for this great land.”  She ran her hands down the man’s body.  “It makes me so aware of how lucky we are to be alive.”

He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled him to her.  Her touch seemed to have dispelled the power of the song on his patriotic sensibilities and now he stared at her, licking his lips.  “Perhaps we should celebrate how alive we are, my dear.”

“He sounds really, really stupid,” said Jester, as she worked on a quick impression of Rose’s face.

Navi snorted, “Merchants.  Always trying to hit above their class.”

Rose’s dress was disposed of in quick order and she reclined back on the bed, pushing her breasts out for full display.  “Are you going to join me, Bader?  You make it very hard for me to wait.”  She moved a hand between her own legs and moaned.

Bader was already red in the face as he fumbled with his cloak, stumbling over the ties before finally removing the last layer of clothing.

Jester gasped as she gazed on his naked body.  “He’s so . . . round!  It’s beautiful.”  She immediately started sketching out the outlines of his massive stomach, but then she paused and leaned forward, peering through the spyhole.  Navi caught her as she slipped off the edge of the stool.  Her book and charcoal clattered to the floor.

“Careful, little fiend.”

Jester retrieved her things and climbed back up.  Through the spyhole, Bader was climbing on top of Rose, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.  Jester started to lean forward again and Navi clamped a hand on her.  Jester turned around.  “Navi, why is his dick so small?  I can barely see it!”

Navi shrugged.  “I suppose it’s a lottery.”

“It’s really amazingly tiny.”

Navi finally gave in and peered through the spyhole.  She tilted her head to the side.  “Maybe the belly makes it look smaller?”

Jester flipped through her sketchbook, examining the various dicks she’d drawn over the last couple years and flipping back to the quick impression she’d drawn of Bader.  Grunting and moaning spilled in from the other room.  Rose cried out, “Oh Bader, you’re so hard!”

“I don’t know . . . .” said Jester.  She held up a page for Navi and pointed at one sketch of an erect penis.  “Most of them look about that size and oh!”  She flipped through the pages quickly and held up another one.  “Have you seen this one?  It was massive!”

“Yes, little fiend, I understand that dicks come in different sizes, but I do not really personally concern myself with them.”  Navi tapped the book.  “Aren’t you supposed to be sketching?”

“I guess.” Jester slumped forward over the book.  “He’s just on top of her.  I was hoping that Mama told me to watch because they’d do something different.  Oh!”  She turned back to Navi, “Like that time, Palen was suspended from the ceiling and there were _four_ clients!  Do you remember that one?”

“I’m afraid I was not needed for that particular—” Navi interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath and her eyes locked on the scene through the spyhole.

Bader was shouting, spit spraying from his mouth.  “You’re a fucking whore.  What makes you think you can say no to me?  I’ll fuck you where I damn well please, how I damn well please.”

Rose was on the other side of the bed and was screaming back.  “You want a cum bucket you go to one of those copper piece skanks on the street.”  She pointed at herself.  “I’m a fucking classy piece-of-ass and that means you don’t get to put that poor excuse for a cock in my ass.”

“Gods damn it, Rose,” said Navi under her breath.

Bader turned beet red and Jester could see his jaw go tight.  His fists were so tight that shook.

Then he was rushing her and Navi was vanishing out the hidden doorway.

He had Rose by the hair and was raising a fist, when Navi flung open the door.  In a second, she slammed into Bader with her shoulder and he went down, just barely missing Rose.  He started to get up, but Navi knocked him down again.

“Rose.  Out of the room.”  Navi pointed and Rose scurried, grabbing her dress before running into the hall.

Navi pointed again.  “You, out of this house.”

Bader sputtered and started to stand.  “You think you can tell me—” He stopped as he realized that Navi stood a full two heads over him.  He stared at the massive arm muscles that hung in front of him at eye level.

“Out of the house.  I will watch you put your clothes on and I will escort you out.  You will not make any noise.”

Bader was quiet, eyes averted, but he muttered as he pulled on his robes, “The Crown’s Guard will hear about this.”

Navi clamped a hand on his shoulder.  “That is your decision.  But the Lawmaster is very happy with her weekly visits here, so I suggest you think twice.”

 

It took Jester a while to find Rose.  She wasn’t in her room and she wasn’t with Mama.  Jester wandered into the kitchen and found Frieda working at another dish.  A pile of hot buns sat on the central table, waiting.

“Well, little one, come back for your buns?”

Jester jumped up and down, a huge grin on her face, but then looked down at her sketchbook and shook her head.

“I’d really like to.”  She looked longingly at the pile, “But have you seen Rose?”

“Ah,” Frieda nodded towards the storeroom, “She came through an awful mess.”

Rose was sitting on a sack of potatoes in the back.  The red dress was back on, but it was slightly askew and Rose’s face was streaked with the remains of tears.  When Jester came in, she looked up and quickly covered her face and fluttered a hand at her.  “Go away, Jester.”

Jester approached tentatively, gripping the sketchbook in her hand.  “It’s okay.  Navi took care of him.  He won’t come back.”

Rose glared at Jester.  “I’m not crying about that fucking shithead.  I’m crying cause your mother is going to throw me out on the streets.”

“No, she won’t, Rose!”  Jester hopped over.  “Everyone knows you don’t like it in the butt.  Mama wouldn’t have matched you with him, if she’d known that’s what he wanted.”

Rose let out a sobbing laugh.  “My gods kid, you really don’t get it.  She’s going to throw me out because I lost my temper.” She shook her head.  “How many months of training and I go off like that first time I’m pushed.  I mean, if Navi tells her what I said.”

Jester crinkled her forehead, deep in thought.  “But he deserved it.”

Rose sighed and ruffled Jester’s hair.  “It’s okay, kid.  Don’t worry about it.”

Jester hesitated and then opened the sketchbook.  She pushed it towards Rose, fighting the urge to pull it back and run away.  “I drew you something.  I thought maybe it would make you happy again.”

She bit her lip as Rose took the sketchbook and looked at the drawing.  It took her a lot longer than Jester would have liked to react.

Rose started laughing.

Jester bounced up and down, clapping her hands, and nuzzled in next to Rose.  She pointed at the page.  “See, his penis is so small, you need two magnifying glasses to even seen it as a speck!”

**Author's Note:**

> I am also [bboiseux on tumblr](https://bboiseux.tumblr.com/).
> 
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